Organization XIII: Lunatics in Trenchcoats
by Original Queen Xalele
Summary: You know, it isn't all about Kingdom Hearts and the restoration of Nobodies... blah, blah, blah. Lend me your ear, and I'll tell you what Organization XIII REALLY does in their spare time... .:Hiatus:.
1. The Lives That Never Were

Is it really possible for anyone to say that Castle Oblivion isn't like any other world? Each day the non-existent sun rises, the non-existent birds sing in the non-existent trees, the inorganic, non-existent people awaken and kick start the 'bustling' nature of the opposite-of-a-tourist-attraction that was known as The City That Never Was, and thirteen people living in a nonsensically large castle awaken and start their non-existent day.

Okay, so maybe it is possible for people to hate The World That Never Was.

And for that crashed semi truck, wedged haphazardly in between Memory's Skyscraper and a cheap Chinese take-out joint? Maybe having a fifteen-whore gang bang in the front seat of a moving vehicle wasn't the best idea, Xigbar.

Well, at least it didn't roll off into The Fucking Huge Gorge Beneath A Floating Castle Holy Crap! That Never Was. But that's a different story.

Anyway.

Maybe they drove away the citizens of The City That Never Was by blasting _I Like To Move It_ just a little _too_ loud for the non-living dead to handle.

Or maybe the last tourist just couldn't handle the thought of having a Creeper for a personal chauffer.

"_Oh please hold on, sir, but I need to get a kiddy-sized driver's seat- I don't know about you, but I can't reach the pedals. I am humbly sorry for any inconvenience. Have a positively __**oblivious**__ day."_

Ahem.

But if there was one thing that the Organization learned, it was not to let Marluxia decorate. And to pick a more inconspicuous spot to hide a secret operations base- which isn't in the middle of a large field. Ditching the large 'Eat At Joe's' sign out in front of their castle was a step in the right direction as well.

House-shopping for a _new_ Castle Oblivion must have been fun, to say the least.

"_Oh yes, mister real estate agent, it needs to be so big that you need five cameras to photograph the whole thing, and it must be all white, and have upside-down hearts impaled on spiky crosses for windows. And it must be floating in a dark city that no one lives in anymore. Oh, and did I mention that it has to be beneath Kingdom Hearts?"_

Have fun finding **that** on Go-Scout Homes.

Now, my friends, if I penned how much that sucker cost, it would certainly bump this word count up from 378 words to at least 15,000.

Oh, right. Can I assume that you were expecting an angst-ridden manuscript about how Axel is more into self-mutilation than the scary doctor-dude from Saw? The one who cut off his foot in order to shoot the poor photographer who was chained to a toilet? Good times, man. Remind me not to invite him to any birthday parties.

If you were expecting something dark, disturbing, angst-ridden and full of teenage love, hate, pleasure and pain, and are not willing to read anything other than the selection I have just mentioned, and will not bother to mention again, or if you are allergic to run-on sentences, you may as well give yourself a frontal lobotomy with a fork. Or you could hit the lovely little 'back' button, or whatever the hell Microsoft is programming there in its place, and leave.

But if you are persistent, then I shall reward you with a humorous, smut-filled, blatant, sarcastic and absolutely lame chapter story about Organization XIII.

But first, I shall drive this point home.

-Drives the Point Home, but gets jumped by fifteen whores, and runs that poor, over-abused semi truck into The Fucking Huge Gorge Beneath A Floating Castle Holy Crap! That Never Was-

Excuse the lame humor.

But I don't need to drive _that_ point home again, do I? That damn point better get a drivers license.

Now, Organization XIII isn't the huge group of skinny men, and one random woman, who wear black coats, smoke Persian rugs in their spare time and get their asses kicked by a little brunette with his head stuffed halfway up his own ass most of the time- that they portrayed. No, that was only for theatrics- a false-front, shall I say. No, Organization XIII is as normal as any place in a world inside of Ansem's computer could be, provided that you realize that each member of the Organization could qualify for the _Lunatic of the Year award._

Roxas- that poor, poor new kid. Someday, we pray, that he will accept that Organization XIII frequently parties and boozes themselves silly- which may-or-may-not have lead up to the semi-truck-into-the-gorge incident- and that Axel is the resident pole dancer slash whore who works on-the-house. Poor kid. We loved Roxas… really, we did.

Larxene, being the only woman, received almost no attention, providing that most of Organization XIII preferred to screw men as opposed to women. However, she keeps herself busy by regularly videotaping their exhibitionistic bedroom activities, which coincidentally, usually aren't in their bedrooms. That poor refrigerator was never the same after the nude art show went awry.

Marluxia, the poor, freaky botanist, AKA 'Mister Wonderful'. Although he is exceedingly buff, sexy and all-too exhibitionistic, he has tenancies to be a real self-centered asshole who has a horrible taste in interior decorating, and who finds agriculture invigorating. We haven't the heart to tell him that Vick's Vapor Rub does the same thing.

Luxord is the man who gambled away his last functioning brain cell a _long_ time ago. He frequently smokes legal, illegal, organic, synthetic, Persian rugs, Creeper entrails and other various substances with Xaldin, Marluxia and Vexen, just for the hell of it. He also has a knack for failing miserably at strip poker. He is the songwriter for the infamous _I Wanna Go Puke on Yo Momma's Lawn_ song, which goes something like this:

_I wanna go puke on yo momma's lawn,_

_But a cop shot me,_

_Damn right, a cop shot me_

_Then Xigbar ran over Vexen with a steamroller._

After that point, however, the lyrics fade into _Deck the Halls with Balls of Collies_. Do note that the first song is sung to the tune of_ Milkshake_, whilst the latter bears the tune of _Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly._

Demyx has conflicting stupidity and maternal instincts. In plain text (But how is this text plain? You could be reading this in _Algerian_ font… and honey, that sure as hell ain't plain), he likes to think of everyone except for the other Organization members as his children, and fills their heads with stupidity. He has a knack for adopting various nobodies, and he frequently laps into crying fits when he has to release the nobodies 'into the wild'. He likes for his 'children' to call him _Auntie Demyx_.

Axel is the most powerful man in Organization XIII, for one reason only.

Axel controls all of the sexual pleasure in the castle.

The man is a prostitute working for charity, and rarely ever sleeps alone. He's the resident pole dancer, stripper, dominatrix, bondage toy, _Master_ and slave driver of the castle. However, despite current sexual situations, he is one of the most respected, and popular (For obvious reasons) in the castle. Did we mention that he's incredibly good looking, and he has a six-pack that could put John Basedow to shame? In his free time, Axel is actually quite sane… some of the time.

If there is an illegal substance, Saix either deals it, uses it, abuses it, tried it, smuggled it, or referred a friend to try it. He has some aggression issues and a sick infatuation with Vexen, and he has a tenancy to be very territorial. Taking his spot on the couch is not advisable. However, he has a large sweet tooth, and loves cookies.

Zexion is probably the sanest person in all of Oblivion, which is a statement to boast when you live with raving loonies. He prefers to read and chat with Axel, or lock himself in his room before Saix goes nuts because Marluxia won't let him watch _Birds of North America vs. The Evil African Lions from Hell_ because he's watching the World Series.

Lexaeus is a cross dresser, no questions asked. He tries his hardest to be as girly as possible, despite his incompatible personality and physical build. He doesn't bother with the questionable antics of the other Organization members, and is lost in his own little pink, fluffy world.

Vexen is too skinny, too old, too crotchety, too much of an addict, and too masochistic for his own good- or for anyone else's good. If he's not working on an experiment, rambling to himself, almost overdosing on Vicodin, complaining, reading or begging Axel to discipline him… only his dead grandmother knows what he's doing. He also has control over that ever-controversial bulletin board that Zexion frequently gorges himself on post-it notes.

Xaldin scares the rest of the castle on a regular basis due to his nudist nature. He has a thing for pornography, and loves to share his collection of tasteful smut with the rest of the gang, much to their disapproval. He has a tenancy to state the obvious, repeat the repeated, and ask blunt questions to unsuspecting tourists- such as the Three Wise Men who got lost on their way to Bethlehem.

Xigbar is old. Older than Vexen. Older than cockroaches. Older than the adenovirus. Older than the custard in the back of the freezer. Okay, let's face it… Xigbar is _old._ He's rather moronic, insulting, blunt and obsessive, and he has _really_ bad erectile dysfunction.

And as for that fifteen whore gang bang in the semi truck that almost ran over the Three Wise Men? He still has yet to comment on that.

**And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the biggest buffoon in all of history.**

We assume that Xemnas doesn't mean to be a bozo. Well, putting all of your energy into Kingdom Hearts, which Sora has proved to be **LIGHT** with the intention of causing **DARKNESS** wasn't necessarily the brightest idea. Also, verbally accosting Ansem while you _could_ have been torturing Sora to the deepest depths of hell wasn't a get-up-and-go idea either.

No matter.

Xemnas is pretty stoic, other than his apparent need to run around in his boxers and a tank top.

Ahem.

Good to know, eh?

Now, you may be wondering why I just bored you by giving you all of this random information. Well, if you haven't had a reality check in the past five minutes- the amount of time I assume it took you to read this document- this is the beginning of a hilarious story about Organization XIII that you **will** review, alert and favorite for future reference.

Brainwashing… 5 complete.

* * *

Alrightey. Don't worry, there will be an interesting story for the next chapters… just had to get the introductions done. If not, my dear friends, how lost you would have been! Anyway, since you haven't committed suicide with a stick of Tollhouse cookie dough, I assume that you'll keep reading. Thank you, and have a positively oblivious day. -Xal 


	2. Persons in Authoritative Positions

Yes, I combined some of the chapters. Shoot me.

* * *

Axel was fast.

Fast enough that he could easily call himself the swiftest in Oblivion, which is quite a statement to boast. Living with the irritable populace known as Organization XIII could teach lessons to even the brashest of nobodies, all of which had to be avoided in a timely manner. After all, why would one want to learn?

However, nobody was as irritable as Vexen.

_Thwack._

"_Will you be shutting up sometime this season?!"_

"_Stop dancing!"_

"_Holy shit! Your rhinestones are burning my eyes!"_

"_I'm old, give me a break!"_

"_Move your ass a little faster, I'm not getting any younger here!"_

"_You couldn't tell your foot from a monkey's left nostril!"_

Ah, yes, Vexen's vocabulary certainly exceeded the requirements. Or tolerance.

Axel _was_ fast, however, he wasn't fast enough to dodge the sneaker than Vexen flung at his head.

"Will you _shut up_ already?!"

"Oh, come on, Vexen. You know you _love_ the _I Wanna Go Puke on Yo Momma's Lawn_ song."

"Just as much as I love you reading your hideous erotica in _my_ presence, all while humming some bullshit song that the dopemeister concocted during one of his nude, gay art shows? Really, Axel, I thought you knew me better."

"Oh, come on, Vexen. It's only the Kama Sutra."

"Axel. Go. **Now**."

After untangling his long, lanky limbs from the throw blanket, Axel made his grand exodus and tripped over a large cherub statue in the process.

Oh yes. Axel was fast, but not as fast as Vexen.

Axel, feeling slightly degraded, retreated to the kitchen with high hopes of better company. Seated behind a hideously ugly pink card table was none other than Zexion, who was entertaining himself by playing cards with himself… and winning against himself.

With a suspicious eye, Zexion examined the incoming calamity and the novel of pornography he clutched.

"I see you've been busy."

Axel shook his head, which dislodged the sneaker that was wedged haphazardly in his wild spikes.

"You'd never know."

Cricket. Cricket. Cricket.

"Can I sit down?"

"Does it look like I can stop you?"

Taking this as a hint, Axel took a seat at the opposite end of the repulsive table and busied himself by staring at Number VI.

"_Damn you, Marluxia! Go to hell, you vile bastard! I hope you know that I don't find you entertaining in the least! I hope your naked body washes up upon the shores of California and you get eaten by hounds! Damn you! Damn you all! Da- wait, are my soap operas on? Okay guys, catch you later, but I've got to see how General Hospital ends."_

Zexion returned Axel's stare.

In union silence, they commended that the shouter was most certainly Vexen.

Vexen, the man in a blind fit of rage with a mission, hustled through the kitchen, stopping only to grab the bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos off the counter.

"_General Hospital… can't believe it's the season finale… gotta see what… happens… hmm, I wonder what's for dinner…"_

Zexion buried his face into his hands.

"Talking to yourself, Vexen, is a sure sign of insanity."

"What of it?"

The conversation was dropped before any further insanity was issued.

It was many a moment before the silence was ended, and unluckily for both VI and VIII, it was from the wrong party.

Staggering, obviously highly plastered, Demyx and Luxord made their striking entrance by tripping over their own feet, slurring already garbled speech and having Luxord pass out. Demyx gasped.

"Lux go night-night."

Zexion's mouth fell open into a wide gape, and he apparently didn't have the mental control to close it.

"I thought I'd be used to this, considering I've lived here for a few years now, but still, I'm amazed at how plastered one can get."

Demyx raised one eyebrow.

"Plastered? What's a plastered? Duuuude, I think I'm-"

Do I really need to say that he used Luxord as a sick bucket? I'm pretty sure we've all guessed by now that he would.

Axel shook his head.

"It isn't even noon yet."

"That's what worries me, VIII."

They glanced at each other for a second, before hurriedly leaving. Demyx shrugged.

"G-g-g-uysssszzz? Whereya goooooiiiinnnuh? I waszzzsss goooonnnaaa make some 'spressoooo…"

_Thud._

O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O

_Somewhere over the rainbow…_

Marluxia's mouth fell into a gape as the series of quite _unfortunate_ events unfolded around him in a matter of mere moments. First, Vexen had deflated a kidney at the simple notion at his age and that he ought to take it a _little_ easier. Then came the ripe-melon-thud of Luxord's empty head connecting with the ground in an unconscious state of minus-ten-IQ, before the undeniable sound of vomiting could be heard amongst Zexion's gasps of eternal horror. Finally, the less-than-ripe-melon thud of Demyx hitting the floor in a state of minus-thirty-IQ ended the whole ordeal in a flurry of insanity, racing thoughts and drool that apparently started leaking out of Marluxia's left eye.

"Close your mouth, Marly, you look like Xigbar."

Aghast at the notion of being even remotely related to the man who took being an idiot to genius levels, the fact that a substance that appeared to look like KY jelly was leaking out of his eye, and that the most horrible variation of his name had just been used, he shut his mouth, wiped him cheek and cursed Saïx all in one moment. Ah, my friends, Marluxia was a true multitasker.

"Is _that_ better?"

"Indeed. Your IQ just went up fifty points."

Marluxia was about to make a string of rude hand gestures at Saïx when a shriek arose from the kitchen.

Both neophytes assumed that it was Demyx- no normal man could ever scream that high. He sounded something like a tin can in a corn mill, but since there were no corn mills in The World That Never Was, that theory was hard to test.

"_HELP ME! MY CHICKEN POT PIE IS GIVING BIRTH TO A BEET!"_

In a painfully slow sort of way, Marluxia and Saïx turned to exchange looks of eternal horror.

"Is it actually possible for someone to be that stoned?"

"I seriously don't know, Marluxia."

From that point onward, the day seemed to go either uphill or downhill, depending on how you looked at the situation.

"_HELP! THE BEET MY CHICKEN POT PIE GAVE BIRTH TO IS NOW GIVING BIRTH TO A MARIJUANA PLANT!"_

A sound rang out from the corner of the living room that resembled a vacuum cleaner with _really bad_ gastroenteritis, and it wasn't a moment later that the familiar swirl of darkness erupted like a volcano who had previously had too many cans of soda and packets of pop-rocks.

However, what the two neophytes _weren't_ expecting was the most overpowering array of smells to flood the room, and to hear poor Zexion gagging in the other room from the horrendous stench.

Xemnas stepped out of the portal. Marluxia had to clutch his nose to keep from expiring on the spot, and Saïx was making some weak gagging noises.

"Good…" Gag. "Afternoon…" Cough. "Superior…"

Marluxia couldn't resist asking.

"By any chance, just how many scented products have you used today?"

Xemnas shrugged.

"Enough, I guess. Wild rose-scented lotion-"

"Wait, **my** lotion?!"

Xemnas slapped Marluxia upside his head.

"-Green tea shampoo, briar lemon balm conditioner, Old Spice spiking gel-"

"_HELP! MY MARIJUANA PLANT IS BEING RAPED BY A TOASTER!"_

"-Baby powder shaving cream, mint aftershave, apple cologne, fresh linen soap, tooti-fruitee toothpaste, wild cherry floss, cinnamon gum and some of those super-sour rhubarb mints that Xaldin compulsively buys."

Marluxia's poor, abused left eye started twitching, just as more of the KY-jelly eye syrup started leaking out.

"Oh yeah, and Hawaiian Breeze air freshener."

Saïx managed to thrust his head into the sixty-four thousand dollar vase before his stomach violently ejected its contents.

At that time, Xemnas took notice of Marluxia's very apparent ocular… _problem._

"You should have Vexen check that out. I can't risk anyone falling ill."

Marluxia grimaced at the memory of the previous incidents with Number IV.

"_I'm just saying that you should take it easier. You're an invaluable asset to Organization XIII, and you doing something stupid and fading your little skinny ass away isn't going to do anyone a baker's fuck of good."_

"_Are you saying that I do stupid things?"_

"_No, I just..."_

"_I know that as soon as I expire, you guys are going to throw a massive party, screw a bunch of cheap prostitutes and then go to hooters for some late night action. Then you'll probably watch Axel strip. Then, one lucky number's gonna get laid by Number Eight himself. I know the routine just as well as you, Marly."_

"_I didn't know you were psychic."_

The flashback ended.

"No thanks, I think I'll manage."

O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O

"_Luxord? Trashcan? Luxy? Luuuuuuuuuuxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooorrrrrrrrrdddddddddd…"_

Luxord had to coax his heavy eyelids to turn off the new big screen HBO, high-definition mother-fucking TV set that had been installed in place of his brain, and to function like proper eyelids should. However, since they were Luxord's eyes, of course they didn't function properly. Luxord, even though he was more plastered than the wall that Larry the Cable Guy had recently fixed, didn't expect to pry open his peepers and see Demyx hailing a Marijuana plant that had a toaster hanging off of a few leaves. What's worse was that the toaster was making a certain- motion- similar to what Marluxia did to himself while he watched the Food Network.

Okay, what the _hell._

Luxord shrieked like Gerard Way had just walked in on Donald and Goofy doing sexual actions with Grandfather Moses, and with a rapid succession of gurgling noises, limb flailing and convulsions, he took off running into a nearby living room (One of many, mind you). However, despite being the honorary gambler of the gang, Luxord probably had the shittiest luck out of any nobody to ever wander the halls of The Castle That Never Was That Is Above The Fucking Huge Gorge That Never Was Holy Crap! In The World That Never Was. Why did I supply you with that useless bit of information? Well, if the smell of marijuana plant being toasted wasn't enough, Xemnas certainly was.

Luxord, or a trashcan, for which Demyx apparently mistook him, skidded to a halt as an overpowering, permeating smorgasbord of aromas radiated from the Superior like nuclear power plant had just committed suicide. Now, since there were no nuclear power plants, nor corn mills in The World That Never Was, two theories were then laid to rest in the great land of people who sat and thought about being unemployed in the sky in only a matter of minutes. Wherever the fuck that was.

Luxord gripped his abused nose in a clutch that could bend nails. He attempted without luck to retreat back into the hostile terrain of the kitchen, but a strategically placed Playboy magazine thrown carelessly onto the freshly waxed hardwood floor caused him to lose his footing and do a faceplant into the wall.

-INHALE.-

_**Good Goofy**__, think Xalele as she studies what she has just wrote. __**That has enough run-on sentences to kill Sora…**_

Oh yeah, and never tattoo a cross onto your chest and then get thrown into prison.

-EXHALE.-

In union, the (Rather odorous at this point) standing trio shook their heads and went about making themselves scarce.

_They were on a mission (From God, of course) to shower, apply makeup and do whatever it is that the people in authoritative positions did on their coffee breaks._

Thankfully, Xemnas at least had the decency to go shower.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Squeaky clean and relatively fresh smelling, Number One adjusted his robes before stepping into the treacherous terrain of the bedroom hallway. Only God (And maybe Axel) knew of the horrors that took place in this hallway, and anyone brash enough to investigate was most certainly put in their places.

Or, should I say, had things put in odd places.

Xemnas, of course, had little time to dwell on the subject. He knew all to well of the gradual decline of the Organization's attention span as the day dragged on, and if he had any chance of drilling anything into the thick skulls of the neophytes, he had to do it now before the caffeine rush from the coffee kicked in. Brandishing a booklet of notes, he approached a nearby intercom speaker. With a clear of his throat and an adjustment of his posture (Like it would help), he pressed the big red button of impending doom and proceeded to read a message from the book:

_**Testing… testing… one, two, three… testing. Okay, I think it works.**_

He cleared his throat once more.

_**Attention all members of the Organization! Attention, Organization XIII! There will be an emergency meeting held in five minutes! I repeat, in five minutes and emergency meeting will be held in the meeting room! Do not be late!**_

Xemnas was _so_ sure he could hear the exasperated groans and mumbles of protests from the floors below.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Only after Nine and Ten cleared out from the kitchen did Axel dare to venture back in. Xaldin, the usual chef of the Organization, had apparently forgotten about making breakfast that morning, and the call of the cinnamon rolls on the counter was too strong for the whore to ignore.

Saïx had apparently already raided the box. The flimsy cardboard had the unmistakable claw-and-tooth marks that could only be created by the animal.

Cinnamon: The catnip of crazed blue-haired nobodies.

Axel tore through the already ruined container and ravenously bit into a bun. The look on his face was pure bliss- for once, he was alone in the kitchen _and_ he was eating _actual food_. A rare treat indeed! It was only moments before the box had been nearly licked clean and Axel was skipping cheerfully off to the meeting room to see what the entire hubbub was about.

_Virtually moments later…_

Despite the arguments, death threats, random comments, hangovers and weak come-ons, the group made it into the meeting room on time, and the only person missing from this circus act was the ringmaster himself. But, not for long, ladies and gentlemen. Xemnas made his grand entrance by tripping over a wayward skateboard, almost falling off the ladder up to his nonsensically high chair and almost falling for the fatal _butter on the throne_ prank that Xigbar had decided to pull.

A few moments later and smelling of Pine Sol, Xemnas settled into his chair.

"Are we all present?"

"Rumor has it."

"Thank you, Saïx."

"Anytime."

"Now, you probably wonder why I have summoned you…"

Random mutterings and chitter-chatter gave way to the unmistakable sound of Axel.

"So we can learn five different ways to give someone a blow job _without_ using your mouth?"

The room's attention fell on Number Eight. Not in a sick sort of sense, but in a sense of wonder and desire to learn- Axel _was _the master. The Kama Sutra of Kama Sutras, the pimp of pimps, the whore of all whores…

"Thank you, Axel, for that incredibly **STUPID** comment."

"Aw, come on, Saïx! A guy's gotta have some fun… speaking of which, I could show you how…"

Xemnas cleared his throat and the room refocused its attention on him.

"This morning, a terrible tragedy has happened."

"My only marijuana plant was raped by a toaster?"

"Sora has been committed to a nearby mental hospital."

Marluxia fainted.

"I believe that Saïx has more information on the situation- he was a witness."

Saïx cleared his throat.

"This morning, well _before any of __**you**__ got up_, I went out for my usual morning jog."

Some mumbling in agreement was shared.

"Well, I happened to be jogging in front of our former headquarters when I stopped to catch my breath."

"Wait, Saïx," Xigbar interrupted. "You mean to say that you _weren't_ out murdering innocent little children this morning like you _usually_ do?"

"Well, I considered it."

"Are you feeling okay, Saïx?"

He growled angrily, and that put an end to wherever it was that Xigbar was going.

"As I was saying, I stopped in front of our former headquarters when I happened to see the Keyblade master asleep in a bed of grass."

More mumbling was heard.

"I observed from a distance. It was only a few moments later that he awoke."

A few more mumbles of agreement could easily be heard.

"That's when I noticed that the dog-knight and the duck-mage were missing. The Keyblade master apparently noticed that too- but as he looked behind a nearby boulder, he started screaming hysterically."

A few questioning mumbles and gasps of horror were heard.

"Then the Keyblade master summoned the keyblade and attempted to cut his own head off."

"Ugh, that is **so** gnarly!" Luxord exclaimed at the very idea of Sora committing suicide. I must agree… the idea is rather pleasing.

"Thank you Luxord… but anyway. I ran over to try and stop him, but his head _FELL OFF!_ It landed at my feet, and that's when I realized that Sora was a _ROBOT!_ Because his head started repeating some random error message…"

_Error, error. Please consult your stupid keyblade master handbook. Error, error. Please consult your stupid keyblade master handbook. Error, error…_

"So then I walked over to the rock and peered behind it."

"_SO?_" Vexen exclaimed. "_WHAT WAS BEHIND IT? I WANT TO KNOW, AND GET OUT OF HERE SOON BECAUSE MY SOAPS ARE ON!"_

"Donald and Goofy were engaging in sexual activity."

Vexen fainted.

"Thank you, Saïx," Xemnas concluded. "But I have one last important announcement."

He cleared his throat.

"Now that Sora is no longer in the picture, we can completely focus our efforts on Kingdom Hearts. However, we have not decided on a design for it… or even what would go in it."

Saïx scratched his head in dismay. They had forgotten an important part of designing their own world; you have to _actually know_ what you want it to resemble.

"So, I have arranged for us to take a vacation around the many worlds to get an idea of what we wish Kingdom Hearts to be like."

Clapping, cheering, whooping and whatnot erupted from the seated nobodies as if someone had shaken a bottle of soda. Xemnas, who was now overly pleased with himself, smiled cheerfully and continued the message.

"We will first try out some nearby activities, then we'll embark to the worlds that even _we_ have not dared to explore… or talk about… or… whatever…"

Axel stood up. "So, what are we doing first?"

"Tomorrow, I've arranged for us to go golfing."

_Ooooh._

"And tonight, we're having a massive pizza party for no apparent reason whatsoever."

Demyx exclaimed his love for Xemnas and attempted to jump into his lap, but missed by at least a mile, and hit the floor with a sickening _splat._

"Ugh, that is **so** gnarly."

"Shut up, Luxord."

"Whatever you say, Zexy."

"And stop calling me that."

"Yessum."

"I'm not… female…"

"Yep, you aren't, Zexy."

Zexion threw his hands into the air.

"I give up, okay?!"

* * *

CLIFFHANGER! Now, read and review, minions! -Xal 


	3. Getting Things Done, Pirate Style

A few minutes later and smelling of both Lysol and hydrogen peroxide, the meeting was over. Demyx, who had apparently sobered up after his short jump across the large gap, was now skipping merrily down the many corridors of the castle looking for his buddy.

Luxord.

Luxord and Demyx had been best friends ever since their first meeting. Armed with creative imaginations, a lust for adventure, a seemingly endless (Or complete lack thereof) supply of brain cells and a rather disturbing interest in substances of questionable legality made them a deadly duo from the very start, and even if they have no combat experience whatsoever, they certainly know how to kill people.

Did you know that Organization XIII used to be Organization XVI?

I needeth not tell you what happened to the fourteenth member.

All the while, Xemnas was pondering the not-so-peculiar happenings of the day. The hangovers, a mysteriously appearing marijuana plant, Marluxia's eye problems, Xemnas assumed to be the result of Marluxia poking himself in the eye with a mascara brush a little too forcefully, and finally, the fact that Sora was now committed and that they could all have a vacation.

Xemnas rubbed his chin in thought.

Going on a vacation was a pleasant idea. One could go anywhere and do anything when one was a nobody; but a vacation with the _entire fucking organization_ was going to be harder than pulling yourself out of bed to go to a meeting you didn't want to attend in the first place.

Saïx was rather pleasant company- that was, until he got pissed. Marluxia was pleasant company when he was around Saïx- that was, until Saïx left, then he became gay as hell and cared about nothing more than his nails.

And possibly his hair.

But that's a different story.

Anyone else made him want to take a long walk off a short cliff.

It was true that they needed a basis for Kingdom Hearts. It was true that if they were to humanize the entire colony of Nobodies that they would need some form of entertainment- and installing things no one was going to use would do no one any good. Xemnas actually wondered why he brought up golf. Honestly, was he expecting to find that Xaldin putted mini-golf with Xigbar in his spare time?

Blasphemy.

Still, there were always other things to try. Things that stupid humans did to themselves for fun, such being tanning salons, roller coasters, fast food and NASCAR. Xemnas didn't quite recall trying any of these activities during his time as a human, but he did take into account that the others might have- and that others might make attempts on his life if such pleasures were not fulfilled.

Just as his feeble mind began to contemplate the silhouette of a marker scribble on the side of Vexen's throne, a wayward Saïx wandered in, brandishing a mop and a bucket of only God knows what.

Maybe Saïx too, but the jury's still out on that.

"Here are the cleaning implements you requested, Superior."

"Thanks, Saïx, but I could have used those _before_ the mess was cleaned up."

"My sincerest apologies."

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife and serve it baked potato style.

"Saïx."

"Superior."

"Do you like tanning salons?"

"Eh… what? Tanning salons? Hell no. If I wanted synthetic skin, I would have pissed off Vexen a long time ago. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Alright."

There was another long pause.

"Saïx."

"Hmm?"

"Do you like roller coasters?"

"I doubt it. I think Demyx does, though. Why…?"

"Just wondering."

"Okay."

…Insert pause _here_.

"Saïx."

"_What?_"

"Do you like fast food?"

"Fast… food? If you're talking about fucking Taco Bell, you can shove it sideways up Lexaeus' ass. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Yeah, aren't we all."

By now, he was tired of waiting for permission to leave. Instead, Saïx decided to leave before Xemnas completely lost his mind.

"Saïx."

He was so close to salvation, too.

"_**YES, SUPERIOR?!"**_

"Do you like NASCAR?"

O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O

There was much merriment to be held in a nearby living room. Demyx was celebrating the fact that they were going to have a party, Luxord was celebrating the fact that Demyx was alive after such a fall, Axel was celebrating the fact that he would soon meet more people with whom he could sleep, and everyone else… well, they weren't celebrating. In fact, they were almost depressed that Demyx survived the fall.

Because he was doing a jig on the coffee table with Luxord.

"_I wanna go puke on yo mo-_"

_**AHHHHHOHHMYYYYGODHELPMEEE!**_

Xigbar was the one to speak.

"Hey, I think the superior is practicing his act of a little girl screaming…"

However, the snarling, growling and meaty slobbering noises echoing from the meeting room said otherwise.

"Ten bucks and my left nut says that he ain't acting," Xaldin commented nonchalantly. "Think we ought to go help out?"

They all fell into silence for a second.

"Eh, why not?"

"I'll get the stun gun."

"You get the tranquilizers, Zexion. I don't trust Larxene with those."

"You low-class, slut of an Aussie bastard!"

"Yeah. That's me."

"I think we're gonna need a crowbar."

"I'll go get it."

"No, let Xaldin get it. I don't trust you with it, Vexen."

"You… bastard, French child!"

"No, wait… that's Xigbar. I'm the uptight German snob, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah… yeah, yeah."

"Okay, we've got a superior to save…"

After much negotiation and many trips down memory lane in their home countries, they finally got around to rounding up the supplies and marching into the throne room.

Excluding for Lexaeus, who was too claustrophobic to enter the now-packed room.

"Lexaeus," Zexion started. "Napoleon's _entire_ fucking army could fit in here. Come on, we're going to need some brute strength…"

"Uh, wait. I think I left my curling iron on."

Without further ado, he ran off into the sunset, but managed to trip over himself and his five-inch stiletto heels in the process.

Five times, and that was only in Zexion's range of view.

Which wasn't far, considering that Demyx sold his last pair of contacts on eBay for drug money.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O

The scene could be easily be described as obscene. At first glance, no one would suspect the innocent little Saïx of almost brutally murdering poor Xemnas, who was just as innocent…

"No shit, Sherlock."

The writer gives her most humble apologies.

Ahem.

As I was saying, the scene was brutal. Various Xemnas parts lie in steaming heaps across the stark white floors, and the disturbing mental image that was everyone's worst nightmare was playing like a broken record player for all of the Organization to see. And no, XemSai Fangirls, it wasn't yaoi. It was…

"Cut to the chase."

Psh. Fine.

The only thing between Saïx and Xemnas' jugular vein was that damn marijuana plant, with the toaster still clutching a few leaves. Seeing as though Xemnas had now become a complex jigsaw puzzle, he couldn't hold the plant- instead, it was hanging haphazardly out of his mouth and he was attempting to hit Saïx in the head with it.

Like it would really help. It at least made him feel slightly better.

Axel rushed in with a trained hand in Saïx stun-gunning, and it wasn't long before Saïx was neatly out-of-the-picture and Xemnas was doing what Xemnas did best- bitch and moan.

"I… _Ooooh,_ just cleaned this room… _ugh_, I think he got my kidney…"

"Vexen," Marluxia said in a disturbed way. "Can you… go, like… patch him up? I've heard you're the only one with a medical degree."

"Oh yes," Vexen hissed, putting emphasis on a chillingly Axel-like grin. "I certainly do. And I'd be **HAPPY** to patch him up."

Vexen grabbed his ankle and proceeded to drag him out of the room while simultaneously barking orders to the rest of the Organization members.

"Can somebody fetch the parts and bring them to the lab? If you do, I won't experiment on you. For the next week, that is."

O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O

"Alright, gang. Seeing as though Xemnas is currently out-of-commission, I'm your new superior for the time being, and I say that we get things done around here _pirate style_."

Marluxia looked up at Xigbar, who was standing on a large box.

"How the hell do you do something _pirate style?_"

"Well, you burn villages," he pointed to a large colony of ants in the corner, "Drink lots of rum, disrespect your hookers and plunder lots of booty. Preferably Axel's, but hey, he's prime meat. Remember though, kiddies, that he plunders back."

O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Yeah, Xigbar, you do that.

I want to thank everyone for reviewing! Remember, if you review, Xigbar won't do you pirate style. Let me tell you… that's a good thing. -Xal


	4. Interlude: Waltz of the Tazered

The first thing Saïx did when waking up in the morning was to bury his face in the pillows, unleash an inhuman moan of dissatisfaction at the TV-alarm-clock-slash-Discovery-Channel-special that came on, _every day_ (Just to annoy him) at seven AM before dragging himself out of bed to shower and fix his nonsensical, anything-but-manly hairstyle.

He did precisely that this very morning, but only with more moaning after a sleepless night due to Axel and Roxas' less-than-silent exhilarating encounter.

Oh yes.

Just to make matters worse, his roommate's alarm clock went off, playing _Baby Got Back_ nauseatingly loud for all of The World That Never Was to hear.

His roommate was Xigbar. He didn't mind about the music, anyway; any song about lard asses could easily be considered a Xigbar theme song.

Ahem. Anyway.

Normally, his life, un-life, _whatever_, would go on in a rather abnormally normal fashion before ending at night as he slumbered a slumber that made the dead envious.

_However, this day was proving to be more of a nightmare than most days proved to be, _Saïx mused as he lay woozily in a pile of Xemnas gore. _Certainly more problematic._

He really didn't mean to go Animal on Xemnas; it just… happened. The next thing Saïx knew was that his nose felt broken, he was covered in a substance that probably wasn't catsup _AND_ he had been stun-gunned.

For the fifth damn time that week, and it was only Wednesday.

Tazer gunning was not high on Saïx's list of things he wanted to do. Sure, being able to become the Animal was fun, especially to scare the living hell out of little wayward trick-or-treaters on Halloween (A pastime story all-too commonly heard by the Organization), but when push came to shove, the man with the subcompact automatic stun-gun-slash-machine gun wins.

The smell of cooking bacon, sizzling ham and buttery, steamy eggs floated through the air like a graceful ballerina, dancing on crystals of perfect ice, which only made Saïx drool and want to vomit at the same time.

He picked the latter.

A few moments later and feeling much less dizzy, Saïx stood up and examined his surroundings with the intent of damage control.

Well, a rogue atomic bomb probably would do less damage.

At least Saïx had the insight to leave his cleaning implements unscathed.

He sighed, grabbed the mop, dunked it into the condemned water and began giving the meeting room a good scrubbing-down.

Oh, the Superior would just love him later…

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Look! It's an… interlude. Oh well, I was uninspired. Until the end! -Xal


	5. Author's Notes That Never Were

**Dearest readers, **(Or haters, or whatever)

Due to supreme writer's block, sickness 'o plenty, schooling, babysitting, annoying family members and my intense Japanese studies, it has come to my attention that Lunatics in Trenchcoats should be put on hiatus until I can finish it.

However, my lovely readers, I have multiple new stories in the works that will be released very soon.

Love,

Original Queen Xalele

But I couldn't leave you in the dark, now could I? Here's a smattering from the next chapter of Lunatics in Trenchcoats: Chapter Five, Crowd Control.

**0o0o0o0**

The Organization never questioned Number One or Number Seven, nor did they realize that the absence of those two numbers could make life so much more fun.

Xemnas is boring. That's an absolute fact that no amount of sugar, caffeine, cross-dressers or pirates could change. Saïx, on the other hand, was a good little bitch, _most of the time_, doing what Xemnas told him and keeping everyone in line.

Or maybe he's keeping them out-of-line. Hmm.

When the training wheels were removed from the bike, you better know how to ride it. Too bad the Organization doesn't know how to run an Organization.

Breakfast, done pirate style, was much more entertaining when alarming quantities of rum was pumped into the eggs, pancakes _and_ Xaldin, which resulted in one hell of a show. We all knew that Xaldin was talented with his spears, but this was unbelievable. Who knew that he could use them to flip bacon?

Or possibly plunder Axel's booty?

Needless to say, that did not go over well.

Multiple Band-Aids and drunken apologies later, breakfast was served. The plates were practically licked clean in a flash; so clean, in fact that they didn't need to go into the infamous Dishwasher That Never Was. Instead, Xaldin haphazardly shoved them back into the Cabinet of Not-So-Fine-China-Ever-Since-Zexion-Got-Into-It That Never Was and went back to doing what Xaldin did best, like playing pirate with Xigbar or sitting down for a nice game of strip poker with Luxord.

However, Luxord and Demyx were placed on crowd control.

A.K.A., the cockroach metropolis in the trash compactor.

Demyx surveyed the situation with a critical eye and a wicked smile.

"So, Luxord, how many pounds of raw explosives do you still have?"

"Not as much as we did before Operation Mow-z-Lawn, but enough to certainly make some noise. Why?"

Demyx just smiled.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The chores had been done, the fun had been had, and now most of the Organization was reclining in Living Room Number 666 in a drunken haze. They all agreed that they should get things done _pirate style_ more often; that was, until Vexen found a way to make hangovers history. The only people they reluctantly missed were Demyx and Luxord, which may or may not have been a good thing, seeing as though things tend to go awry when the dynamic duo was left alone for extended periods of time.

Larxene was just about to make Marluxia the butt of a joke when an eardrum-shattering sound barrier-breaking time bomb seemed to explode from the nearest kitchen.

A few moments later when everyone regained consciousness, Lexaeus said the longest sentence he had ever said before. _Ever._

"'Noh unauthoriz-zuh-zuh-ed constructionnn on 'he castle, 'boyz…"

Then he proceeded to be sick in a bush and pass out. The end.

Zexion, who, if it wasn't for a well-timed dashing away, probably would have had a lapful of Lexaeus juice, made a mental note not to give anything stronger than water to Lexaeus. He apparently didn't hold his ale well.

There was no response from the kitchen, which was quite unlike Nine and Ten. If they were alive, they'd be making all kinds of odd noises right about now, especially if they were the cause of the explosion.

They _had _to be the cause of the explosion. After all, the castle didn't just spontaneously combust just for the hell of it. Although, if Demyx and Luxord were in the same room together, I wouldn't blame the room for wanting to combust.

_Roxas, who had passed on the rum and was the only rational person in the room, was taking shelter behind a sofa._

_Larxene was wondering about what Marluxia was doing._

_Marluxia was wondering about what Larxene was doing._

_Luxord was M.I.A._

_So was Demyx._

_Axel was on the couch, making odd whimpering noises and holding his ass._

_Saïx was zoned out in the Meeting Room, scrubbing things down._

_Zexion was doing calculus in his head._

_Lexaeus appeared dead._

_Vexen was dressed to the nines in hospital scrubs, reattaching parts to Xemnas._

_Xaldin wanted a cookie._

_Xigbar was laughing manically for no reason at all._

_Xemnas was sedated and dreaming of sugar coated blue-haired elves wearing skimpy thongs and net shirts. And they were feeding him grapes._

Oh yes. They were handling this situation with sense and maturity.


End file.
